While the darkness settles and part of the
world lays its head to rest, there may
be a few who may just burn the midnight oil, buried in their journals or
sitting by a corner, full of a void that seems to be occupying their hearts at
large.
On one side of the earth lay a young man.
Giving thanks he is closed in for society depicts that “Real men don’t cry.” Though this time round he cares less that he
is breaking the rules, for his heart chooses to be unrestrained. There’s a
brokenness that desires to burst out from within and with no restrictions it
seems to cause the heart to tear apart and let it come out naturally through
the tears, the wailing and the mourning.
Out comes the release, the once held back
mixture of several emotions intertwined too intimately to be detached from each
other. They are rolled up into one big ball and settled right at the core of
the heart. It was easy to compress them with a little bit of hope that things
would eventually work out just fine. He was optimistic, that she would return,
though the more he had his arms stretched right out for her believing that is
where she belonged, the more she stared, scorned and walked away, hoping that
he’d get the simple point... he wasn’t
good enough for her. She had found someone else, someone better. Someone
she found security in that she seemed to lack from her previous encounter. She
had found someone who could take care of her, the way she wanted him to. He
couldn’t do so for her, even his very best was simply average for her. He was
insignificant; his ‘exodus’ felt more of a breath of fresh air to her life than
a sting of pain that would awaken the senses to sensitivity, but all in all
...he loved her. But his love was just that... not good enough.
His thoughts were no longer clear, but
clouded with memories of what once was; all was history and the present sunk in
deep; a painful reality. She was gone, gone for good, it was over... without
him yet to be understood. She had a choice to make... and yes, he chose
another, not him, simply because, he was not good enough.
Now, his nights are full of lack of sleep,
not even an ounce has interrupted the suddenly daily routine of thinking about
her. They are colder, lonelier, and somewhat darker for the flame that once
burnt bright was puffed out in an instant when she walked away, never to return
to him again...
Follow this link for Part 2: The Interpretation
A break up is always painful
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